Hank, I can’t warn u all the time, gotta mix it up occasionally
Glad u didn’t spill ur cuppa this time round

DD Stefan, it’s funny u mention the bare wrap of rachis and that Willowhead recommended it. I’m pretty sure that’s how I first came acceoss it. Either way when I tied this fly I thought of him when I wrapped that hackle. I miss him as we all do. It’s nice to be reminded of his presence and for me tying this fly did just that and to hear ur comment made me smile fondly...

Hank, I can’t warn u all the time, gotta mix it up occasionally
Glad u didn’t spill ur cuppa this time round

DD Stefan, it’s funny u mention the bare wrap of rachis and that Willowhead recommended it. I’m pretty sure that’s how I first came acceoss it. Either way when I tied this fly I thought of him when I wrapped that hackle. I miss him as we all do. It’s nice to be reminded of his presence and for me tying this fly did just that and to hear ur comment made me smile fondly...

I’m not hijacking here, just a sentimental detour.........speaking of willowhead, a quick memory: quite a few years back, I was driving down Stewart Avenue in Roscoe, headed to get lunch after a long morning of fishing the Beaverkill. Morning olives were on in a big way, fish were cooperating and I had the river to my self! As I neared the where the old diner used to be(Frank Kuttner’s favorite place), a car coming at me in the opposite lane started flashing his lights and waving his arm out the window....”did I just run over someone’s flyrod or do I have a flat” I wondered.... as he pulled near, the driver called out “ Hey man, what cha doin?” It was Mark.... “ Fishing” I replied.....”I’m grabbing lunch then headed back - Cornutas are on thick”. “Well you can’t fish from the truck - follow me” he hurriedly demanded......he backed up, did a u turn, then headed back the direction he came. So I obediently followed, all the while thinking maybe he found a BIG fish somewhere he couldn’t catch. We pulled up to his driveway where he stopped short, got out, and pointed to his driveway: “There” he said, in a demanding, yet pleading sort of way - it was a tree, that fell across the entrance to his driveway!
“Would you help me move it please”?
So I did.
We then spent the afternoon together tying flies, talking, and laughing. I never did make it back to the riverside that afternoon.
And I am glad I did not.

That was the last time we spent together, before Mark passed on to the big river in the sky.....